


Blaise/Seamus Prompted Drabbles and Ficlets

by FleetofShippyShips



Series: Prompted Harry Potter Works [26]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: HP: EWE, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 12:05:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12232482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetofShippyShips/pseuds/FleetofShippyShips
Summary: Prompted Blaise/Seamus drabbles and ficlets from my blog.





	1. "Why is this so hard?" "You know what else is hard?" "This book I'm about to beat your ass with?"

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter title is the prompt line for the drabble, and any additional detail is in the chapter notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by Anon, ship unspecified and left up to me.

“Why is this so damn hard?” Seamus whined, tossing his quill down and glaring at his parchment.

“You know what else is hard?” Blaise said, raising an eyebrow.

Seamus levelled a glare at him. “This book I’m about to beat your ass with?” he said, resting his hand on the textbook in front of him. 

Blaise snorted, leaning closer. “Please, you wouldn’t damage my ass, it’s too perfect.”

“Or so you think!” Seamus said. “Don’t distract me! If I don’t do well on this exam, then I won’t stand a chance getting into the Healer programme!”

Shaking his head, Blaise leaned back in his chair. “If anything is going to hold you back, it’s your tendency to blow things up with even the most rudimentary spells.”

“I haven’t blown anything up in over a week!” Seamus hissed. “And the last time was your fault!”

Blaise raised an eyebrow. “How was that my fault?”

Seamus’ face reddened. “Because you stuck your bloody hand down my trousers right when I was casting!”

“Oh, yeah,” Blaise said with a smirk. “I forgot about that. You did look like you needed a hand though.”

Seamus’ hand tightened on the textbook, and his eyes narrowed. “And people call me easy.”

Blaise grinned, leaning closer again. “I’m always easy for you.”

Rolling his eyes, Seamus picked up the textbook and hit him lightly on the head with it. Blaise scowled at him, but quickly leaned forward and kissed him.

Seamus kissed back for a few moments, and then whacked him again for good measure.


	2. "Nope. Not you. Get out of here right now or I'm going to punch you in that pretty mouth. What? I didn't say pretty. Fuck you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by starshaping.

“Nope. Not you,” Seamus slurred the second the closet door closed behind Blaise. “Get out of here right now, or I’m going to punch you in that pretty mouth.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow, only stumbling a little as he stepped closer. Just as pissed. “You think my mouth is pretty? Aww, I’m touched, Finnigan.”

“What?” Seamus asked, trying to hear if everyone outside the closet was laughing or not. This was bound to be Ron’s doing. He was the one who kept suggesting who should follow who in for seven minutes in heaven. And everyone kept agreeing with him. “I didn’t say pretty. Fuck you!”

Blaise laughed. “You are pissed,” he said, stepping even closer, until Seamus’ back hit the wall of the closet. “You said pretty. You said my mouth was pretty.”

Seamus swallowed, and gestured. “Well, you know…” Words seemed to be failing him.   
“You.”

That only made Blaise preen. “Me? All of me is pretty? Why, thank you Finnigan, my ego is enjoying this stroking.”

“Didn’t I tell you to get out?” Seamus asked, licking his lips, and trying not to think about the fact they only had a few minutes, and he very much did not want Blaise to get out. Better than someone else. Better than Goyle.

“You remember the rules of the game, surely,” Blaise said, reaching out and straightening Seamus’ loose tie. “You’re stuck in here for seven minutes with whoever they vote follows you. That’s me, Finnigan. Deal with it.”

Seamus glared at him, wishing they hadn’t rigged up some lights in the closet. Darkness would be better. His face felt hot, he was probably red. He didn’t think Blaise would believe it was the alcohol.

“So, _Seamus_ ,” Blaise said quietly, almost a purr, gripping the tie he was still holding, and tugging Seamus closer. “We still have a few more minutes. What do you want to do?”


	3. Blaise blinked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by ylime94, requesting a post-yule ball kiss, and being a cheating cheat by prompting me my own idea I once told her about.

Blaise blinked. “Did you… did you just  _ kiss _ me?”

Finnigan rubbed the back of his head, and then made a hand gesture that had him almost falling over.

“Yeah…”

Blaise squinted at him. “That’s not fair!”

“What?” Finnigan leaned closer, as if it would make his words make more sense. Blaise swayed forward a bit too, before leaning back again.

Whoever had spiked the punch had done a bloody good job of it. He could barely think straight.

“That was my first fucking kiss, Finnigan!” he snapped, prodding Finnigan in the chest so hard he nearly fell over, only righting himself at the last moment. “You can’t just…  _ steal _ it!”

“Whoops,” Finnigan said with a giggle, before slapping his hand over his mouth.

Blaise could still hear him giggling behind his hand, and prodded him again. “You wanker!”

Finnigan snorted. “We’re all wankers, technically.”

Blaise didn’t care for technicalities. 

“Was it at least your first too?”

He wasn’t entirely sure that would make it better, but he was pissed. In both meanings of the word. He wanted to get him back, but wasn’t sure how.

Finnigan started laughing. “I’m fourteen, mate! Not twelve! ‘Course it wasn’t!”

Blaise felt his face start to burn. Fucking Gryffindors. Indecent. Crude. Completely unacceptable bastards.

“Then why the fuck did you kiss me? Go snog whoever you’ve been kissing!” Blaise snapped, glancing around to make sure the hallway Finnigan had cornered him in was still empty.

He shouldn't feel embarrassed. He shouldn't. Not being kissed yet was normal. Draco was the only one of them who had ever been kissed, and that was only because an older girl had snogged him on a dare, to see if he’d say he’d tell his father. He hadn’t even liked it.

“I wanted to kiss you though,” Finnigan said, reaching out, and running his hand along Blaise’s shoulder, and then down his arm, looking over him. “You look really… and your robes are… and you were walking alone… Really good. You look really good.”

Blaise thanked Merlin for the dark lighting of the corridor, and his dark skin. Only Theo and Tracey were ever able to know for sure when he was blushing, just a shift in the undertones of his skin. Draco was too lazy to look at him hard enough. He always asserted he was embarrassing Blaise whether it was true or not, whether there was evidence or not.

But Blaise was definitely blushing now. He could feel it in the heat spreading across his face.

Seamus fucking Finnigan had come out of nowhere, stolen his first kiss, and now he was making him blush. Over a vague compliment. Even if his accent made it more endearing than if anyone else had said it. 

Fucking wanker.

“Soooo… we okay, Zabini?” Finnigan said.

Blaise squinted at him. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Finnigan made a vague gesture with one hand, and swayed on his feet again. “You’re not gonna get your mates and… hex me in the dungeons? Or something?”

Staring at him, Blaise bit his lip, and deliberated. He really should do that. The wanker deserved it. But no one else had told Blaise he looked good, or tried to kiss him. And Finnigan wasn’t so bad himself, when he wasn’t blowing things up and getting covered in soot. 

“Depends,” Blaise said, an idea forming, and his stomach twisting. He glanced along the corridor again. They were still alone.

“What?”

“You owe me a repeat.”

Finnigan frowned. “A what?”

Licking his own lips, Blaise looked at Finnigan’s, and then met his gaze. “For not giving me warning, and just kissing me without asking. You owe me a repeat.”

It seemed to take Finnigan a few moments, but then his eyes widened, and his gaze dropped to Blaise’s lips.

“No arguments here,” he said without hesitating, as he stepped closer.

Blaise’s stomach fluttered, and he cursed his own nerves. It was just a fucking kiss. And it had already happened. It wasn’t even the first now. Even if the first had been over before he’d even realised what was going on.

Finnigan reached out, and cupped the back of his head, drawing him closer, and Blaise was glad again for the low lighting. His face felt like it was burning. 

Finnigan’s breath was warm over his face, and smelled like the spiked punch. He also smelled like some awful cologne that Blaise would comment on after this.

Their noses bumped, and Blaise rested his hands on Finnigan’s shoulder, not sure what else to do with them.

“Hey, Zabini,” Finnigan said softly.

“What?” If the git was going to back out of this and tease him, Blaise would hex him right in the fucking crotch. He knew an excellent itching hex for that.

“Can I kiss you?”

Blaise blinked several times, trying to focus, when Finnigan’s face was really too close to focus at all.

“Why are you asking? I just told you to.”

Finnigan shrugged, almost knocking Blaise’s hands off his shoulders.

“Thought you wanted warning, and asking.”

“Just fucking kiss me, Finnigan!”

Finnigan snickered, and then closed the distance. Blaise closed his eyes, and forgot how to breathe. It was a completely different experience, now that he knew it was coming. Finnigan’s lips were soft, and one of his hands was still cupping the back of his head, while the other was on the side of his neck. 

When Finnigan started to pull away, Blaise followed him, but it was too late, and there was distance between them.

With his face still burning, Blaise almost didn’t want to look at him, but couldn’t stop himself. Finnigan looked back with a fairly normal expression. No teasing at least.

“Alright?” he asked, reaching out and touching Blaise’s lips with his thumb for a second.

“Your cologne is awful.”

Finnigan laughed. “‘Course it is.”

Blaise took a step back and straightened his robes. That wasn’t supposed to make the git laugh.

“Then don’t wear it,” he huffed.

That only seemed to make Finnigan laugh again. He reached out, and brushed Blaise’s cheek with the pads of his fingers, and then shrugged.

“See you around, Zabini.”

Blaise wasn’t sure what to say, and wished he hadn’t had any of that punch. He was better at getting the last word than this.

Halfway down the corridor, Finnigan turned and shouted, “You still look really good.”

“Your cologne is still gross!” Blaise shouted back.

Finnigan laughed all the way down the corridor, until he turned a corner, and the sound faded away.

Blaise looked around again, glad no one had witnessed any of that, and then started off for the dungeons. His face was still hot, and the dungeons would be colder. And if he touched his lips every now and then, no one would know why. And if he thought that Finnigan’s laugh wasn’t half bad to listen to… that was just the punch talking.


End file.
